by any other name
by shomarus
Summary: Piper closes her eyes and leans forward, then brings her eyes about the room for something to focus on. The singer on the stage is a great place to start. [Piper/Magnolia]


Fuck McDonough.

It's a thought she has often, but Piper can't help but to feel it with twice the intensity tonight. Kicked out of Diamond City with little more than Nat at her side and the caps she'd kept in her desk held in a little pouch, with precious little to show for it besides a couple of angry civilians and one or two awkward smiles. People don't appreciate the news the way they oughta, but Piper supposes that's the way it was supposed to be. She'll convince Danny to let her in sometime, or something like that. Until then, with Nat fast asleep at the Hotel Rexford, Piper's going to pray that the beds don't have worms.

The worst part about all of this is that everything Piper's worked for, all of her achievements and whatever other material possessions she might have had fit right in the pockets of her little red coat. It's a disappointing revelation, and Piper can't help but to make a very sad note of it. It should be something for sober Piper to reflect on, but with the sad little bottle of beer idly dangling between her indexes, she knows that it's the only thing she'll be able to think about. Piper closes her eyes and leans forward, then brings her eyes about the room for something to focus on.

The singer on the stage is a great place to start. Piper's heard of her quite enough from the few stragglers down in the Dugout, though she's never found the time to make her way down to Goodneighbor to take a listen herself. Between writing articles and taking on odd jobs to swindle a few caps out for her sis, Piper realizes how very little time she's had at all. How kind of McDonough to make the time, she thinks ruefully, and almost laughs as a result. What's the girl's name again? It was something to do with flowers. Rose, Orchid, Daisy? Nah, but what about—

"Interested in Magnolia, are ya? Lucky that you got in before her last performance for the night," comes a gruff, mechanical voice. Piper, shocked, turns to come face-to-face with the bartender himself. Her first thought goes to the paint on his plating—what kind of flag is that? Her second thought goes to the rather cute bowler he wears on top of his head. If his tone weren't so unfriendly, she might have smiled at the sight of it.

"Oh. Um. It's no trouble, really. I'm just looking," she assures him, and she wonders where she got the impression of a well-meaning father looking out for his young. It's her skill, or that's what her father had called it. Her ability to make a story out of anyone, inferring meaning without having seen the whole picture. Piper had always liked that idea, admittedly. She looks into her drink, suddenly embarrassed.

Whitechapel Charlie—that's gotta be this guy, right?—simply huffs and looks down into his own glass, promptly polished and put aside. "You stare more ardently than the rest of these blokes. Or maybe you got the sharper eyes. Which is bad, 'cause it means you don't got enough booze in ya. Then again, s'not like it's any of my business." And he's right, it's really not, but Piper doesn't think it appropriate to say anything so she simply looks away. Right back into Magnolia's aura, and for a moment, their gazes meet. Piper's the first to tear away, right back to Charlie. "Uh-huh. Well, not that someone that's just lookin' would need to know, but if you're orderin' drinks, she's into the martinis. Dry. Thought I'd let you know."

Piper nods, a little dumbstruck at the notion. Whitechapel Charlie stares at her for just a little while longer, and then floats off to the other side of the bar. She takes a swig of her beer, wipes her mouth and frowns. An odd interaction, but then again, perhaps all robots were odd. The song is just about over and Piper goes back to watching, although this time she's rather acutely aware of the way Whitechapel Charlie looks at her, even from the other side of the room. When Magnolia (and god, what a pretty name) is finished, she bows, chuckles into the microphone and walks off. Piper watches for only a few seconds before she looks back to her bottle, which at that point is feeling rather empty. When she looks back up, Magnolia's sitting next to her.

"Enjoying the music, are you?" she asks cutely, as though she truly doesn't know the effect her voice has on others. Piper does laugh at this, and it comes out strained, nervous.

"Yeah. You have a lovely voice. It's—beautiful." This isn't how Piper normally talks, though for all her stuttering she might as well just pull her newsy over her eyes and walk right out. It's ridiculous, but it only seems to keep Magnolia intrigued.

"Wouldn't be the only thing in this room that's beautiful then," she says, and smiles. Leans onto the counter with the entire upper half of her body, sprawled across it somewhat tiredly. "Ah, but where are my manners? I'm getting ahead of myself, you'll have to excuse me. What's your name?"

Though she doesn't blush easily, Piper can feel how hot her ears get, and her smile is stretched out widely, awkwardly. There was hidden implication in the back of Magnolia's words, and though Piper toys with the idea of a witty and adequately flirty response in return, it's lost nearly immediately. "It's uh, Piper Wright."

"Oh!" The look of recognition on Magnolia's face comes as a surprise to Piper. "From the paper, huh? I've always admired a gal who can not only get a good set of words onto paper, but influence the people around her."

"I feel that it's important to get the public opinion out, even if it's not the popular one yet," Piper manages to stumble out. It sounds better than 'it's an honor you've even read my paper, ma'am'. A whole lot better.

"Confident, too. You're a woman after my own heart, you know that?" It must be a joke because Piper feels anything but, and she wonders if it's the heat from underneath her clothes or if it's the alcohol or if it's maybe just her. "So what's the infamous Piper Wright doing way out here in Goodneighbor?"

Piper stares for just a few seconds longer than necessary and laughs, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I'm just trying to decide on whether I should give you the abridged version or not. Simplest way to put it is that I got the boot and Goodneighbor's close."

"Can't imagine why anyone'd want to keep you out. Or why they'd think that they could. Something tells me you're a crafty little thing, and it's not just all these stories you tell." Magnolia props her head up against her arm, smiles knowingly.

"Crafty's a word for it, I'm sure. Say, um—Would you mind a drink? If that's your last set for the night, of course."

Magnolia thinks for a moment, then, "I think I'm just about done for the night. What's one little drink to loosen me up for the rest of it?"

"That's great. Hey, Charlie!" Before his name even leaves her mouth, Whitechapel Charlie's already zooming towards the pair with a set of glasses in his hands. It's almost embarrassing for Piper to ask, but she does so anyways. "Another beer for me, and a dry martini for miss Magnolia, please."

Piper could get rather used to the way that Magnolia laughs, warm and rich and up in the air. She feels stupidly proud of herself for being able to get that reaction out of her. "And you even know my favorite drink. You're a doll."

"The truth is that Charlie just told me what it was before you came to see me, but I thought it'd be nice."

"And it is."

When he brings them their drinks they simply talk for a while. Magnolia about Goodneighbor, the people around and various stories she's heard, and Piper of ridiculous situations she hasn't written about, and at some point she even begins to talk about Nat. It's only when Whitechapel Charlie makes a loud coughing sound do they realize simultaneously that everyone else has started to file out, until it's just them and a couple of sleepy drifters hanging around the couches.

"Speaking of Nat, 'suppose I should get back to her, shouldn't I? If she's not asleep she'll have already torched the place down with the kind of trouble she gets into." Piper sighs, "A shame, I think. I'd have liked to spend a little more time with you. Perhaps another time."

"Maybe," Magnolia begins, "but I don't see any reason as to why we can't spend a little more time right now. Give me a few minutes to grab my coat, maybe we'll walk for a little bit."

It's an enticing idea that Piper follows up on with a nod and a smile, and they walk around Goodneighbor with all of its lights and late-night cityfolk. She's not quite sure when it is that they've started kissing or even what prompted it—perhaps an offhand comment by Piper about how cold it is outside, or something Magnolia said about the couples who swung by the Third Rail—but it's kind of nice behind the light buzz.

When Piper wakes up in the hotel, in a separate room that they'd only rented for one night, with Magnolia no longer by her side does Piper realize that she might be a little bit in love.


End file.
